


french food and voluntary servitude

by allthatconfetti



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, University AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8338984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthatconfetti/pseuds/allthatconfetti
Summary: A date auction to benefit climate change, except nobody told him he was a part of it.Or, date auction AU with Junhui and Jihoon.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [triggerswaggiehavoc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/triggerswaggiehavoc/gifts).



> IT'S BRYNNY DAY! Happy happy birthday to ao3 user triggerswaggiehavoc, my dearest friend and my Junhoon buddy. I hope you like this, as this is yours.
> 
> I love Junhoon, that's all. Please love them too. Oh, if there are any spelling issues, mistakes or grammar issues, I posted this unbeta'd so. Sorry? Yeah.

Jihoon is, how do you say, in a bit of a weird situation.

He’s sitting, quite stiffly, in an ornate wooden chair in a terribly fancy restaurant, watching an obscenely attractive young man speak to a waiter and tell him in what Jihoon assumes is French exactly what he wants the both of them to eat for dinner. Jihoon tries desperately not to squirm while the waiter nods almost imperceptibly at every word coming out of the other man’s mouth..

It’s not that he’s a stranger to nice things--his mom raised him to have good etiquette and shit. On his 16th birthday his parents took him out to some gourmet restaurant, the kind with ten forks and fifteen knives just for the one person. He nearly went insane then, and he’s certainly contemplating the same occurence now.

Across from him, the young man (“Junhui Wen,” he had said earlier, in the softest voice Jihoon had heard since he started university, “I’m very pleased to meet you”) finishes ordering, shuts the menu with a little flourish, and gives the waiter a wide grin. “Thank you,” he says, obviously pleased. He looks over at Jihoon. “I hope you don’t mind me ordering for you. You said you’ve never been here before and I’d like your opinion of this dinner to be a nice one.”

“Why are we here?” Jihoon asks. He’s never been one to beat around the bush, and he’s not going to start now.

Junhui all of a sudden looks extremely concerned. “Do you not like French food? Oh no, I should have asked. Didn’t I ask? I’m pretty sure I asked.”

Jihoon blinks at the sudden flow of words streaming from the other’s mouth, before shaking his head dumbly.

“Darn it,” Junhui says, looking contrite. “I really thought I did.”

“French food is… fine,” Jihoon says, not entirely sure why he’s doing the reassuring at this point. The other is starting to pout, brow furrowed, muttering under his breath. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

Junhui tilts his head, expression on his face clearing. “Oh? What do you mean then? Before that, please tell me you don’t hate veal.”

“A daily part of my diet,” Jihoon deadpans.

Junhui smiles. “Okay good, because their veal is really fantastic.”

Jihoon is starting to feel the beginnings of a headache at his temples. “I mean. Why am I,” he gestures at himself, “here”, at the table, “with you?”, and then finally at Junhui.

“Oh,” Junhui stops. He picks up the napkin on his plate, folds it carefully over his lap. “Well, ordinarily when one is the winning bidder at a date auction event, the bidder usually takes the bidded out on an actual date.”

Jihoon pinks at the memory.

(Honestly, he doesn’t know how Soonyoung and Wonwoo managed to convince him to even go to their org’s fundraiser for climate change, but both of them said honestly it would be so fun isn’t he tired of studying midterms were still a week away he’s looking paler than usual and everyone is going to be there. Listening to those two babble in run-on sentences was enough to convince him to tell them that he would be going just to shut them both up and all things considered, he was actually having a good time, nursing a beer and talking to Jeonghan while Seungkwan, a peppy sophomore, hosted the program -- a date auction. Jihoon had snorted at the antiquated notion of raising money through voluntary servitude but seeing the money being thrown for the chance of one-on-one time with the more good-looking members of organization was amusing, and admittedly a respectable plan. Mingyu, a ridiculously handsome junior, blushed as a bidding war erupted over him that settled at around six hundred dollars.

He was contemplating grabbing another drink when suddenly he heard Seungkwan call his name over the speakers, the spotlight suddenly rolling over him. He froze, staring straight at Seungkwan, who was onstage reading his name off a piece of paper. A buzz sounded in his ear, and he was pretty sure he was going to pass out from sheer embarrassment until Seungkwan’s voice rang out, strong and clear and piercing the veil of shock he was currently under: “Sold! To the gentleman at the back!”

PPS: He no longer considered anyone named Wonwoo and Soonyoung as his friends.)

“I know that’s the standard operating procedure,” Jihoon replies, trying very hard to wipe the sweat from his palms discreetly. “What I’m asking is, why did you--please don’t make me say it out loud.”

The corner of Junhui’s mouth quirks just the tiniest bit. “Say what out loud?”

Jihoon barely knows him but he wants to kick him under the table.

“Why did you,” Jihoon asks, through gritted teeth, “Bid for me?”

“It wasn’t a pity bid, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Junhui says. He’s looking down at the table, avoiding Jihoon’s eyes and casually adjusting the forks until all their bases were aligned.

“I wasn’t thinking that,” Jihoon lies through his teeth. The waiter from earlier arrives to fill their glasses with sparkling water, disappearing right after he places the bottle in a bucket placed between them. Jihoon takes the time to look at his companion for the evening. Tall. Lean. Dusty blond hair styled impeccably. Soft voice, straight back. A constellation of tiny moles mapped out on his face that Jihoon hates to admit to himself is intriguing. He’s wearing a red blazer in a quiet fancy restaurant. When he smiles, his whole face lights up.

Definitely trouble, Jihoon concludes. Best to just eat and run.

“Two hundred dollars for a good cause and a nice evening sounds like a bargain to me!” Junhui says, his voice suddenly spiking with excitement. He smiles brightly at Jihoon.

Jihoon narrows his eyes at him in return. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Because I don’t go to your school,” Junhui says, matter-of-factly. “Thank you,” he adds, as the server places a dish between them. Under the dim lights, the appetizers look delicious and tiny. Jihoon feels his stomach rumble and curses his body’s betrayal.

Fine, he’ll eat, even if this whole situation is just. The weirdest. He picks up a fork, then puts it down and picks up another when he sees that’s not the fork Junhui picks up. Ugh, fancy restaurants are hard.

“So why were you there?”

“Me? I’m friends with someone from there. Minghao Xu?”

Jihoon thinks he knows him, vaguely; he calls to mind elfin features, a ferocious pout and a sweet laugh. “I think he’s friends with the ex-friends who pulled me into this mess in the first place.”

Junhui quirks an eyebrow. “Ex-friends?”

Jihoon shrugs. “I have no idea but, last night, I wasn’t supposed to be part of the auction.”

The fork stopped somewhere between the plate and Junhui’s mouth as he freezes to stare at Jihoon. “What?”

“I was only there because they convinced me to come along. I didn’t think I’d become a part of the program.”

“So, you didn’t… you’re not supposed to be a part of this?” Junhui looks so mortified it makes Jihoon feel a bit bad.

Jihoon shrugs again. He picks up the fork to spear more potatoes and shove them into his mouth. They were excellent, to be quite honest. “Nope.”

“Oh,” Junhui says. He puts down his fork and places his hands in his lap. “I’m really sorry you got roped into something you didn’t really want to do.”

He looks so sad that Jihoon starts feeling bad before realizing this was, in fact, a situation he was not supposed to be in in the first place. He had half a mind to actually walk out before the dinner but a.) two hundred dollars was a really big amount of money, and b.) he was a man of his word, even if someone said it for him. Besides: free food, even if it was at some fancypants restaurant, was never something to turn down. By the time Junhui strolled up to the restaurant’s reception area, long and bright-eyed, Jihoon had already psyched himself out for the evening. He was going to eat, engage in the least amount of conversation his mother would find socially acceptable and then go home to find a new pair of best friends.

“Yeah,” Jihoon says. “But… honestly, like you said. It’s a good cause.”

Junhui brightens. “Also free food for you.”

Jihoon, pleased that they somehow came to the same conclusion, smiles all of a sudden. “Right. Thanks for that.” He forks some more salad. “This is good. Thanks.”

“Mmm, yes. You can’t even taste the snails.”

Jihoon coughs, and Junhui laughs, even claps a little at his reaction. Jihoon glares at him as he gulps down sparkling water, the bubbles speeding down his throat. “I’m sorry,” Junhui apologizes, looking not even a little bit sorry. “Just a little way to break the ice.”

“Could have done it while I wasn’t shoveling it into my mouth,” Jihoon grumbles, but he appreciates the joke. He thinks about how Junhui would look during movie nights with his (former) best friends, laughing at Soonyoung’s antics and groaning at Wonwoo’s terrible jokes. He stops that train of thought abruptly because why on earth is he imagining future interactions with Junhui when this was just supposed to be a one-time dinner thing.

His brain is a weird place.

Junhui smiles, shrugs good-naturedly. “You should have seen your face,” he quips, snickering.

“Fine. So Minghao invited you.”

“Yes,” Junhui says solemnly. A plate gets put in between them, some aromatic dish that looks fairly harmless but that Jihoon is afraid will turn out to be something like ostrich. “He knows I care very deeply about the climate change issues affecting our country.”

“Also, he forgot we had plans to see a movie and asked me to come to his org thing instead.”

Jihoon snorts. “And you went.” The dish is creamy but manages to taste light on his tongue. He still doesn’t want to know what this is.

“I was curious. We don't have these things where I go.”

The way he casually drops two hundred dollars for a date auction and the way clothes sit on his shoulders could have said that, is what Jihoon thinks. “Oh,” is what Jihoon says instead. “Where do you go then?”

“I’m a senior at St. Mark’s.”

Oh. The nearby and incredibly expensive Catholic university. Interesting.

“Interesting,” Jihoon repeats.

“Is it?” Junhui asks. He shrugs. “It’s really boring. I’m taking up philosophy, so the curriculum is excellent, but people?” He forks a small piece of meat, pauses to consider it as he talks before placing it in his mouth. A tiny spot of cream obscures one of his moles from view, Jihoon thinks, before stopping himself from going down that route. “I tried to make friends but I mostly go out with Minghao and his friends. They’re… fun.”

Junhui looks at Jihoon again, and smiles warmly. “Like you are.”

Jihoon barks out a laugh. “I can’t imagine you really believing that this dinner is in any way fun. Sorry.”

“On the contrary,” Junhui says. He takes the napkin from his lap to dab at his mouth. “You’re a fine dinner companion.”

Jihoon snorts again. He realizes he should be participating in this dinner through more than just random sounds. “That’s a lie, but thanks.”

“Okay, maybe it’s not entirely true, but that’s because I’ve been doing most of the talking, and I hardly know anything about you. Like, I really need to know how you feel about climate change.”

Jihoon should not have been drinking when he said that, as he sprays Junhui with sparkling water after he finishes his statement. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry,” Jihoon says, while coughing.

“That bad, huh,” Junhui says. Jihoon is slightly horrified that people are looking around to stare at their table and that Junhui’s beautiful blazer is now speckled with water mixed with his saliva, but Junhui’s shoulders are shaking with suppressed laughter as he wipes his face with his napkin. “I’m glad you find me hilarious.”

“Okay, I’m really sorry about all this but let’s not go that far.”

“Please,” Junhui shakes the moisture out of his hair with his fingers. The way he looks right now, in the candlelight, fingers running gently through his bangs, a small smile playing on his face… the back of Jihoon’s ears heat up.

No. NO. NOPE. A world of no, nein, nyet.

Keep it together, Jihoon, he tells himself, annoyed. You don’t even know the guy.

But he doesn’t need to know him much to be attracted to him, and Jihoon isn’t the type to lie to himself. Ugh. Shit. This complicates things, but not enough to stop him from proceeding with his original plan: eat, say thank you, leave.

Except while he’s thinking of these things, Junhui is peering across the table at him quietly, waiting, the shadows in the restaurant shrouding parts of his face and highlighting others. Jihoon is at a loss at how someone so sharp-boned and angular is soft at the edges. “I’m sorry,” Jihoon says. “I’m not good at these things.”

Junhui tilts his head and it gets easier to admit to himself that a part of him is curious at the figures that would form tracing a finger from one mole to the other. “At what things?”

“All of it! All of this is… completely foreign to me,” Jihoon gestures at the table, but looks at Junhui. “I don’t do fancy dinners or date auctions or, like, dates in general.”

“Neither do I,” Junhui says. He smiles. He does that a lot, Jihoon thinks dumbly. “I went to my friend’s event thinking I’ll have a few beers, enjoy the music and the company, and then the spotlight hit you and I thought, I’ll be damned if someone else gets the chance to take him out before I do.”

Junhui coughs, embarrassed, and Jihoon thinks, holy fuck. I don’t remember ever being more endeared in my life.

He narrows his eyes at him, however. “How did you know I would even date guys?”

“I pulled my best friend privilege. Luckily, Minghao is very observant.”

Or his friends were just very indiscreet, Jihoon thinks.

“I guess, I should have asked you if you wanted to eat at a place like this but,” Junhui sits back, all length but looking like a child, “I just wanted to impress you.” He chuckles. “How am I doing for honesty hour?”

“You certainly talk a lot,” Jihoon observes dryly, but his cheeks are pink and he’s tucked his chin on his palm, elbow poised on the table. He’s pretty sure his mother would be ashamed at his table manners right now but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Also,” Junhui adds, cupping a hand around his mouth conspiratorially, “I really wish I could hold your hand but I don’t know if you would let me do that on a first date.”

Jihoon picks up his fork again. Flirting makes him hungry. “Honestly, I wouldn’t let you do it.” Junhui is right; the veal is excellent.

For the first time this evening, Junhui looks taken aback, almost shy. “Oh. I’m sorry, I guess… I’m sorry, I mean, it’s totally fine if you’re not interested.”

Jihoon hides a smile in his glass of water. He doesn’t spit it out this time.

“That’s not what I meant. I mean that I don’t consider this a first date,” Jihoon says, as he continues to shovel truly good veal into himself.

Junhui stops, leans forward, a tiny hopeful smile on his face. Jihoon doesn’t know him, not yet, but maybe he wants to. Maybe.

“What’s your idea of a good first date then?”

“Popcorn,” Jihoon quips. “A good movie. Maybe a walk, depending on the weather.”

“Okay,” Junhui says. “That sounds reasonable. Better, even, than fancy French food, despite the really good veal.”

“Two hundred dollars optional.”

Junhui laughs. “Good, because that’s like two months worth of allowance for me.”

“Hey,” Jihoon shrugs, before smiling. “It was a good cause.”

“Oh yes,” Junhui agrees. “I’m definitely going to champion it from now on.”

“Duly noted.”

“Can I ask you on that next first date soon?”

“Get the bill and it can start right now.”

Junhui immediately calls for the check and Jihoon bites back a smile. It’s been a long time since he had someone to flirt with like this but, he thinks, he has a good feeling about this guy.

And if things ended up okay, well, he’d definitely owe climate change one.

(He’s still mad at Soonyoung and Wonwoo though.)

**Author's Note:**

> I haaaaaaate writing endings. Anyway. I hope you like. Thank you in advance for commenting and leaving kudos, if you do :)
> 
> I also reserve the right to edit formatting and any issues I find after posting.


End file.
